Twist of Fate
by House.of.Black
Summary: It was only a little game. Only a little game with ghastly consequences: Lord Voldemort. The best laid plans can go wrong and sometimes, the most seemingly insignificant actions can make all the difference.In this case, the stakes were higher. Much higher


At last, they were face to face again, after nearly fifty years. Fifty years that had changed both of them to an unimaginable extent.

Certainly no one had imagined that the charming young Tom Riddle would become the cold-blooded murderer, Lord Voldemort. How could they when even Tom himself had never imagined it possible? Had never even _wanted_ it to be possible...  
Sure, he had had an affinity for the Dark Arts but to become a ruthless murderer who killed as other people breathed? Never.

As he looked at her, just for a moment, Lord Voldemort was the Tom Riddle of fifty years ago once more.  
Even fifty years ago, before it had all happened, Tom had always believed that love was a weakness and had never allowed himself to indulge in such foolishness.

But love had crept upon him, unexpectedly and irrevocably.  
He had never expected fall in love, as he had never expected to grow up to be what he was now, and certainly not with her.  
Not Miss Prim Gryffindor.

But his charm had managed to melt the prim countenance of even Miss Gryffindor and the unexpectedly bold and passionate woman beneath had captivated him.  
Her passion and courage had melted the ice enclosing his heart in turn.

The ice that had returned ten times fold, colder than ever, to freeze his heart solid when she had left.

"Why did you leave, Minerva?" the Tom of fifty years ago asked.

They had been engaged and had been happy despite the fact that they were forced to keep their relationship a secret from the world.  
So very happy.

Until that day.

Until the day she had broken off their engagement, had ended everything.

'Tom, I can't see you anymore,' she had said, her eyes glistening with tears.

He had been unable to say a word, had merely nodded, and watched as she walked away for the last time.

There had been so much that he had wanted to ask, so much he had wanted to tell her.  
He hadn't been able to ask, 'Why?', the question that had endlessly plagued him for the past fifty years, at times when he allowed himself to think of her.  
He hadn't been able to say that one word that would have stopped her from leaving, 'Stay.'

Because she _would _have stayed, if only he had asked.  
But he hadn't. _  
One _simple word was all he needed to say, just one word, but he hadn't been able to.  
Pride truly_ had _been his downfall. Pride had destroyed his happiness, had destroyed _him. _

Over the years, in the deepest, darkest corners of his heart, or rather what was left of his heart, he had mused over what might have been.  
He certainly would not have become Lord Voldemort.

Minerva shivered as she looked into the eyes of Lord Voldemort.

For a moment, she had seen in his eyes a flicker of the lonely, aloft boy he had been.  
Tom._ Her _Tom.

She still vividly recalled the day she had left him.  
As vividly as she remembered the Seer who had told her what Tom would become.

Cassandra Trelawney, the renowned Seer; she had approached her and had told her that Tom was destined to become the most feared Dark Wizard of all time.

She had left him and had watched with horror as the prophecy had indeed been fulfilled but had felt anything_**but **_the relief and gratitude one might feel from making such a narrow escape.

She had resented Seer Trelawney and all associated with Divination, a resentment that had later extended to Cassandra Trelawney's descendant, Sybill Trelawney.  
They were constant reminders that she had been wise to leave Tom when she had.  
To see them was like mockery, as if to say that leaving Tom had been the best decision she had ever made.

She didn't want to be told that it had been the right choice. She didn't want to be told that it had been the best decision she had made.  
How could it be when it had nearly destroyed her?

She wanted to be told that it had been the wrong choice. She wanted to be told that it had been the biggest mistake she had ever made.

"Because I didn't want to marry a murderer," she cried, "Because the Seer told me you were destined to become the most feared Dark Wizard."

Tom laughed.

The irony! The horrific,_ ghastly__** irony! **_  
To think that she had left him because of what he would become when he had become what he was because she had left.

"Don't you understand, Minerva? That's why I have become what I am now."

_No, no, no, _she protested. _It couldn't be true.  
__**She**__ was the one to have unleashed the monster in him? It__** couldn't**__ be true. _  
But it was.

For she had seen the exact moment when Tom Riddle had become Lord Voldemort. The exact moment when Tom had stepped unto the final path of becoming Lord Voldemort. And she knew he spoke the truth.  
Because something in Tom's eyes had changed the moment she had ended their relationship, the moment she had ended everything.

Minerva felt the guilt and the remorse engulf her but there was also something else.

Relief.

Because leaving Tom_ had _been the biggest mistake of her life.

One big game of irony; that's what their lives were.  
He and Minerva, they were merely pawns in Fate's twisted game of irony.

Victims of Fate's tricks.

That was all it was in the end; a twist of fate.

* * *

(A/N: Reviews are always appreciated :D) 


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